


Endeavour: Dragon

by Parakeetist



Category: Endeavour (TV), Inspector Morse & Related Fandoms, Inspector Morse (TV), Inspector Morse - Colin Dexter
Genre: Art, Birth Control, F/M, Love, Masters degree, bowling, charity - Freeform, ten pins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28079532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parakeetist/pseuds/Parakeetist
Summary: Everyone winds up at a ten-pins bowling alley. That includes HRH the Prince of Wales (which is why I chose the title 'Dragon'). One great party, leading to one uncertain future. But maybe, a Christmas miracle will happen.
Relationships: Endeavour Morse/Joan Thursday, Fred Thursday/Win Thursday, Jim Strange & Shirley Trewlove, Sam Thursday and somebody soon I hope
Kudos: 2





	Endeavour: Dragon

Endeavour: Dragon  
by Parakeetist

….

Christmas lights and tinsel lined the walls of the bowling alley. A tree stood just to the side of the front doors. In the pro shop, the lights were on, and customers walked in an out, just as normal.  
  
Jim Strange strode up to the bar. He grabbed Endeavour Morse by the shoulder. “Would you get over here and pick out a ball already? If you don’t pick, we don’t have a team.”  
  
“Eh, get one for me.” Morse was already slurring his words. He’d been throwing back the good stuff since they’d gotten here.  
  
“It’s the annual charity tournament, laughing boy,” Jim Strange said. “It’s for the children’s hospital!”  
  
“All right,” Morse said, backing up off his bar seat and slapping a hand on his forehead. “How many teams do we have?”  
  
“So far, three. You and I, versus Feldman and Brook, Keeler and Thompson, and eight more people said they were coming. I don’t know if all eight will show up. Hey, maybe some will.” He gave Endeavour a squeeze on the shoulder.  
  
Jim straightened his tie. Would Morse ever get out of this rut he’d seemed to be in since he showed up at Crowley, back when Jim was a PC? Every year, Endeavour picked a girlfriend who was bad for him. Every year, it caused his heart to lose its moorings. Morse still solved the cases, or helped to, but the way things were going, Jim might get a better promotion than Morse, one of these days.  
  
The detectives constable walked off to get their bowling balls. Morse thought he heard some familiar voices. As he rifled through the equipment lining the shelves, he concentrated on the sounds of two people in particular.  
  
“London looks good on you,” the first person said. “You sure you don’t want to stay? I mean, crimony, it’s a whole lot more interesting than this town. If you’re not in school, it’s a lot like every other mid-sized city in the country.”  
  
“I don’t know. There was that fight-”  
  
“Don’t think about it.”  
  
“Ladies,” Morse said, and stepped up to the table where Shirley Trewlove and Joan Thursday were enjoying soda pops and sandwiches.  
  
“Hello,” Shirley said, with a grin. Joan nodded.  
  
“What are you doing back in Oxford? Seeing family?” Endeavour asked Shirley.  
  
“Well, yes, that’s part of it.”  
  
“What’s the other part?”  
  
“Shirl!” DC Strange called out. With a wide grin, the man walked over to the table. “How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in two or three years!”  
  
Trewlove smiled again. “It’s good to see you, sir.”  
  
“Enough with this ‘sir’ stuff. I’m not anybody’s boss.”  
  
Across the wide hall, a bowler jumped up and down, and his friends slapped the tops of their legs. The man who had thrown the shot looked about 23, and was wearing what appeared to be a cadet’s suit. Morse thought he knew all the officer trainees from this year’s class, but he could be wrong.  
  
Then he noticed the t-shirts the man’s friends were wearing: a bulldog, a rippling Union Jack, and the initials MP. Oh – the London Metropolitan Police. “Miss Trewlove,” he said. “Looks like you’ve got some friends.”  
  
She squinted. “Oh! I don’t know them personally, but they do look to be from London. And that’s the Prince of Wales.”  
  
Endeavour tilted his head. “Really?” He shielded his eyes. “Oh bother. What’s he even doing here?”  
  
“Ah, I believe I read in the paper, he was supposed to review some of the colleges, and give a couple of speeches,” Shirley said. “He’s going to Cambridge on Monday.”  
  
The prince’s navy-blue jacket was open all the way, revealing a white button-up shirt. He also wore loose-fitting slacks, although there was not much weight on him.  
  
“I wonder if they’re playing in the competition for the children’s hospital,” Jim asked.  
  
“I’d be surprised if they weren’t,” Endeavour said. “Ladies, did you want to form a team with us?”  
  
Shirley thought about it. “Joan?” she asked. Thursday nodded.  
  
Soon, all the players were ready to start. The man at the desk picked up his microphone and made the announcements. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s welcome some new competitors to the annual Christmas tournament! We should raise a lot of money for the hospital!” There was a round of applause. The man put down the microphone, and turned up the volume of the holiday music. It looked like the competition was going to be a lot of fun.  
  
A half hour later, Endeavour was sweating, and his shoes slipped across the floor. “You okay?” Jim Strange asked. “You had a few before we started.”  
  
“I’ll make it. You’ll see. I’m at-” Morse looked up at the tote board. “162. Cripes.”  
  
“Step it up.” Jim rubbed his nose.  
  
Endeavour looked across at the board above the lane where Shirley and Joan were playing. Trewlove threw her shot. She got nine on the first try, and made the spare. Thursday applauded.  
  
“Now,” said the announcer, “we have some lovely items for auction. It’s silent bidding. You just write down what you want to bid on the list.” He gestured toward the table.   
It held a number of baskets containing food and drink assortments. It also had hats, sweaters, gloves, and slippers. Shirley took a break and bid half a pound on a pair of fuzzy slippers. She hurried back to the lane.  
  
Joan was fixing her shoe. There was a piece of gum stuck to the right heel. She pried it off and jammed it into a serviette. “Ah!” She stretched out her arms. “Let’s see how our special guests are doing.”  
  
At that very moment, Prince Charles threw the last strike of a perfect 300 game.  
  
He shook his fists in the air again. His friends from the London police stood up and laughed and cheered. One of the officers ran to the desk to get a round of ales.  
  
“Look on the bright side,” Jim huffed. “He’ll get them so drunk, that for the next couple of days, we’ll be able to arrest more people than they do.”  
  
“Not if he’s our team leader,” Joan muttered, as Endeavour wobbled down the lane, listing alarmingly from side to side, and threw his shot. It swerved, but returned to center, and knocked down eight pins.  
  
“Hooray!” Joan cheered. Morse turned from one direction to another and waved to the whole room.  
  
“Hasn’t even made his spare,” Jim said, crossing his legs and his arms.  
  
“Well – let him enjoy the moment,” Shirley said.  
  
Endeavour sat down. Jim waved at him.  
  
“You owe a second throw, mister! Get up!” Morse’s eyes went wide, and he took the second shot. It got one of the pins.  
  
“Nine,” Morse said, as he sat down again. “Eh.” He kicked his heels on the floor.  
  
In the end, the Prince’s team emerged with the highest overall average, while Trewlove and Thursday threw 281, and Jim and Morse, mostly thanks to Jim, rang up a 274.  
  
“Say, did you win those fuzzy shoes?” Endeavour asked Shirley. “Oh, and could you see if I won the grab bag?”  
  
“I’ll bet it has lots of candy.” Shirley grinned.  
  
“How did you know that?” Morse said, his brow furrowing.  
  
She walked off to check the winnings. Joan Thursday ground her shoes into the floor. Morse tilted his head back and forth. Jim cracked his knuckles.  
  
“Do you ever look at yourself as having missed out on something you were supposed to do?” Endeavour said.  
  
“Yes,” Joan said. “Absolutely.”  
  
Morse winced, remembering the time she had lost a child, at the hands of one Ray Morton of Leamington.  
  
“Are we supposed to give the money now? For the kids’ hospital?” Jim said.  
  
“Yes. You just give whatever you want, there are only simple guidelines.” Endeavour kept staring at the floor.  
  
“Well, I’ll go and chip in, then,” Jim said. He headed toward the clerk’s desk.  
  
Joan reached over and pressed her thumbs into Endeavour’s neck. “Oh,” he said, “that does feel good. You should be a masseuse.”  
  
“Would you be all right with me and all those other men? Looking at them in just their towels… let alone touch-”  
  
“No, I would not,” Morse laughed.  
  
In minutes, the Prince and his officers left the facility. He had taken a picture with the owner and autographed it. “Thank you for a lovely holiday,” the words read. The clerk was now checking under the desk for a frame to hold the picture.  
  
Jim and Shirley came back to the table. They were giggling. “What’s got you two all a-tither?” Morse asked.  
  
“Well! Time to go home, I guess,” Jim said, and turned to face Trewlove. She waved. He returned the gesture, and she left the hall.  
  
Morse said and Joan stood up and faced DS Strange. “Tell me what it was!” Morse said, smiling.  
  
“Oh, I’ll let you know some other time.”  
  
“Hey.” He looked at Jim’s hand. “Why are you wearing that? It’s the first time I’ve seen you with one.” He pointed to Jim’s right hand. There was a ring on the third finger.  
  
“That’s for me to know, and you to never find out.”  
  
“Shame on you!”  
  
They all went to get their jackets. “It’s silver and black,” Endeavour said. “The ring. Did you win it from the prize call?”  
  
“Yep,” Jim said. “She didn’t win the slippers. Won a dartboard, instead.”  
  
“Ah. Fun.”  
  
Jim smiled ear to ear.  
  
“You know, young man,” Joan said to Jim, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you and her maybe had a – moment of some type?”  
  
Jim put two fingers to his forehead. “You’re somewhere along the trail.” He could not stop chuckling.  
  
“I know what it is. You found a book about the DI exam, and you’re going to study early.” Endeavour held the door open as the others walked through.  
  
“That is the most boring thing ever,” Jim said.  
  
“But is it true? If you’ve got it, can I borrow it?”  
  
“You could find one at the station. I bet CS Bright keeps some.”  
  
“So you don’t have one?”  
  
“I’ll ask if he’s got two. Ah, Miss Thursday?” Jim said.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Could you drive us home?” Jim nodded toward Endeavour. “Knucklehead Smiff here and I probably had a few too many. Didn’t you take the bus to get here?”  
  
“Yes. The keys, if you would?” Joan held out her hand. Morse handed them to her.  
  
“Nice to have help.” Jim opened the door and got in the back seat. Endeavour got in the passenger side of the front. Joan took the wheel.  
  
Thursday turned on the radio. She put the car into drive. “I’d like to pick the radio station?”  
  
Endeavour shrugged. Joan chose a jazz channel.  
  
“I used to play the tuba in school,” Strange said.  
  
“I played clarinet,” Joan said.  
  
“You play anything, Morse?”  
  
“Piano.”  
  
“Hey! You ought to treat us to a performance sometime. You’re always banging on about how much you like music.”  
  
“Liking it and being skilled at it are two different things.”  
  
“Let’s form a group and play at station functions,” Jim snickered.  
  
“Sure, if you want to get us both fired.”  
  
“Where is your flat, anyway, James?” Joan asked. He told her the address. She took a side street.  
  
In minutes, they arrived at Jim’s place. “Think I should get a house?” Strange asked. “Might need one pretty soon.” He winked, and went inside.  
  
“That man,” Joan smiled, and shook her head. She headed back to Morse’s house.  
  
In time, she parked, and they got out. Endeavour stretched his arms, and wobbled from side to side as he headed up the sidewalk. Joan rushed up and caught his elbow.   
“Steady there.”  
  
She opened the door. He bolted for the washroom. She put away her jacket.  
  
Joan changed into a gray nightgown. She slipped under the covers.  
  
Minutes later, Morse emerged from the washroom. He carried his shirt and slacks, and tossed them in the hamper. He threw himself backward onto the bed, and moaned with exhaustion.  
  
He slapped a hand to his forehead. “My head… spinning…” He grabbed the pillow and pulled it back and forth.  
  
“You all right?” Joan said, resting a hand on his chest.  
  
“Uh.” At last he lay still. “I can’t believe I got drunk with the Prince today.”  
  
“Well, near to him, at least.” Joan smiled. “The bartender said the Prince gave five thousand pounds to the hospital.”  
  
“Crimony! What did our team give?”  
  
“Fifty.”  
  
“Thousand?”  
  
“No, five-zero.” She rubbed his chest. “Still nice.”  
  
“That’s too little. Don’t you think you could have managed something better?”  
  
She raised an eyebrow. “Just me? What was your contribution?”  
  
“I’ll ask DS Strange, tomorrow.”  
  
“Hmm.” She kissed him on the ear. “Anything else you wanted to… take care of?” She drew a circle on his chest.  
  
“Would take too long.” With his eyes closed, he shook his head, and grimaced.  
  
“Hey!” she said, pretending not to notice the angry note in his voice. She nibbled on his ear.  
  
“Get off me!” he shouted, pushing her away. Startled, she pulled the sheet around her.  
  
“What did I do? What’s wrong?” Thursday said, suddenly afraid.  
  
“You prev – prevented me from getting the Prince’s autograph.”  
  
“When did I do that?”  
  
“You bumped into me once.”  
  
“I didn’t mean to! Besides, you and my father got the George Medal. You met the Prince’s mother. Remember what she does for a living?”  
  
“Yeah, right, she’s the Queen. I’m glad I haven’t had the bad sense to marry you yet. Beginning to wear on me.”  
  
“What? What are you saying?” Joan said, tears beginning to creep into her voice.  
  
“I’ll give you a chance. Until, maybe, the honeymoon. If you don’t turn out to be good for me, I might leave you then. Like Rudolph Valentino did that time.” Eyes still closed, he burrowed his head deeper into the pillow. “Least I only have to pay your father half the dowry I’d pay for a virgin.” He smirked.  
  
“Morse!” Joan yelled, and half-jumped out of bed. Morse grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back down.  
  
“I’m sorry, I was just kidding! Please!” Endeavour kissed her on the shoulder. “Come on. Don’t leave.”  
  
She continued to cry. He pulled her even closer.  
  
“I shouldn’t have said it. Didn’t mean it, not a word.”  
  
“Well,” she sniffed, “if you ever get like that again…”  
  
“I’ll hide under the bed. Promise.”  
  
The speed of her breath subsided. Joan sighed. “We get to do this for the next forty years.”  
  
“Can’t wait.” He kissed her shoulder again, and ran his fingers over it. She settled in beside him.  
  
In moments, her breath became even, and she fell asleep. He did the same.

…

At the station, first thing the next day, a man came in and confessed to the holdup of a bank truck. He stuck out his fingers. “Go ahead, take the prints. I’m guilty.”  
  
Morse blinked. “You said what?” He half-stood out of his chair.  
  
“They sent me to your desk because you took a picture of me. When you were in the surveillance van.”  
  
Morse’s temper became blistering hot for a moment. He put his hands flat on the desk. As it was, he’d take the win, however he could get it.  
  
“All right. You’re not under arrest yet, but I’ll read you your rights, and then we have to do an interview. What is your name?”  
  
“Alfred Walter Thorpe. I go by Wally.”  
  
Endeavour walked them to an empty room, and set up a tape recorder. He asked if Thorpe needed to call a barrister. The man gave him the lawyer’s name. An extra policeman stepped into the room and nodded to Morse. Endeavour got up and made the call.  
  
“Don’t say I didn’t do anything for you,” Morse said, and Wally briefly smiled. Once the barrister arrived, the conversation began in earnest.  
  
“Have you reviewed the evidence yet?” the attorney asked.  
  
“I’m guilty,” Wally said. “Trust me.”  
  
The lawyer’s face turned purple.  
  
Shortly thereafter, discussion was finished. The barrister left. Endeavour led Thorpe to the cell and locked him in.  
  
A voice came over the intercom. “DS Morse to the front room, DS Morse to the front room, please.” There was a scratchy noise, and the system clicked off.  
Endeavour jogged down to the main room. DS Strange was there, flipping a pen back and forth from one hand to the other. “Guess what?” Strange asked.  
  
“What?”  
  
“C’mon, say something.”  
  
“Ah, did you win a bet on the rugby?”  
  
“No. Shirley said she’s back from London for good. Put in for a transfer.”  
  
“Oh. Good to hear.”  
  
Jim continued his fidgeting. “Ask me again!”  
  
“Wha-at?” Morse said. “I have no idea what you’re going on about.”  
  
“We’re getting married!” Jim grinned.  
  
“Well, that’s flattering, but you’re not my type.”  
  
“Not you and I, Moose. Shirl and I.”  
  
“Ah, you.” Morse slapped Jim resoundingly on the shoulder. “Congratulations. When’s the wedding?”  
  
“A few months, I figure. Have to sort out a church.”  
  
“Is that why you got yourself a ring, before you even asked her?”  
  
“Nah. Men wear engagement rings too in Japan.”  
  
“Oh, are you going to honeymoon there?”  
  
“Probably not. I thought maybe Wales.”  
  
“She’ll like it.” Endeavour smiled again.  
  
“So, when are you and Joanie-face going to-”  
  
“Hey!” Endeavour started.  
  
“Don’t you think you owe me an explanation, after you asked me all that?” Jim said.  
  
“I’m still working on it. Crimony.“He straightened his tie. Congratulations. You must be inviting everyone.”  
  
“We’ll be sending cards to a bunch of people.”  
  
Morse tapped his foot.  
  
“Including you.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“When’s the engagement dinner?”  
  
“I’ll let you know.”  
  
“All right.”

…

After his shift, Morse headed to the cemetery. He bought a bouquet, and headed first to the grave of his mother. He placed a trio of roses there, laying them across one another. Morse stayed there many minutes, in silent prayer.  
  
Next he headed to the marker of his father. He stared at the grave a long time, then put flowers as well.  
  
The third gravestone he visited was that of DC George Fancy. Someone had gotten there ahead of him.  
  
“Hello,” he called out, and Joan Thursday looked up at him.  
  
She paused for a moment, then nodded. Joan tucked a photograph at the bottom of the stone.  
  
“May I?” Endeavour said. Joan nudged aside.  
  
He bent down to look at the picture. It showed a group of officers, Fancy and several others, all lined up and smiling. “Might have been the day he made Detective Constable.”  
  
“Yes, it was.” She watched as Endeavour placed a few flowers. “He would have made a good – I mean-” She started to cry.   
“Easy, now,” Morse comforted her. “He’d have been good at anything.”  
  
“Yes.” Joan nodded.  
  
They stood up. “I’ve got enough,” Morse said, holding forth his basket, “for the police memorial, and the war memorial.”  
  
“Let’s go, then.”  
  
The two placed the rest of the flowers. When they were finished, Morse asked, “Did you come here by bus?”  
  
“Yeah, I did.”  
  
“I’ll take you home.”  
  
“The same one as always?” she said, with the tiniest of smirks.  
  
“Yes. Indeed.”  
  
“Right, then.”  
  
He took her hand, and they walked to the car park. “You know, years ago-” she said, and then blushed.  
  
“Whatever it was, I’ve forgiven you. Made too many blunders of my own.”  
  
She smiled. “I know I should have said yes to you.”  
  
He blushed. “Well. Ah – thank you.”  
  
“I’m not that young.”  
  
“Pfaaah..” He kissed her hand. “I just blurted it out. I don’t know if I was really ready at the time. Maybe everything that’s happened since then, was to teach me a lesson.”  
  
“And not only you.”  
  
“Well, I think I’ve learned.”  
  
They reached the car park. “We’re going to get take-away,” Endeavour said. “I have to speak to your father.”  
  
“Oh?” Joan said. She looked out the window, and he turned up the music.  
  
When they found the restaurant, he parked. It took a while for their food to be ready. Joan leaned back in her chair and shut her eyes.  
  
She was awakened by the sound of Morse getting back in the car. He put the food on the back seat. She flipped on the radio.  
  
“Good evening, here’s the news,” said the announcer. “A fire broke out in a gardening store this afternoon. Shell’s Supplies, on the eastern side of town, was evacuated, and no one was injured.”  
  
“Thank goodness,” Joan said.  
  
“Indeed.” Morse let a grin take over his face.  
  
“Two parents were arrested when they got into a bit of a scrap, at a secondary school cricket match. Oh, my,” the announcer said.  
  
“Hope I don’t have to deal with them tomorrow,” Morse said, exasperated.  
  
“You’re in a different department,” Joan told him.  
  
“Yes. Did I just miss the turn?” Morse asked, leaning over to look out the window. “All right. Hang on.”  
  
He pulled over to the curb. Slowly, he leaned over, and kissed Joan.  
  
“Are you joking, or did you really miss the turn?” she said, afterwards.  
  
“Yes, and yes.”  
  
“Fine. Carry on.”  
  
“I will,” he said, and kissed her again.  
  
She leaned back, after this one, and said, “I meant, please drive us to my parents’ house.”  
  
“All right.” He turned down a side street, then another one, and soon they were back on the proper route.  
  
Soon enough, they pulled up in front of the Thursday residence. Sam greeted them at the door.  
  
“Hi,” he said. “I’m on leave.”  
  
“Hello,” Endeavour said.  
  
“Come on in, sis, and sir.” He pulled open the door.  
  
Endeavour and Joan stood in the living room. Joan heard voices she knew, coming from the kitchen.  
  
“All right, I’ll bring out the – hello.” Jim Strange walked out, with a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a glass in the other. Shirley Trewlove came in after him, carrying a tray of cheese and bread.  
  
“Didn’t realize we were having company,” Joan said. “Welcome.”  
  
“Thank you.” Jim nodded at her and Morse.  
  
Endeavour thought he might know why the two had paid a visit. He kept mum.  
  
Fred and Win Thursday emerged from the kitchen, the mister with a glass of Scotch in his hand, the missus following. “Oh! Looks like the house is full up! Everyone, sit down, please.”  
  
Fred drank from his glass and put it on the table. Then he and Sam pulled out some extra chairs from the hallway storage room. Morse set down the boxes of dinner on the table as well. Soon, everyone was sitting down.  
  
“Darling, I didn’t expect you,” Win said to Joan. “What brings you two here today?”  
  
“Oh, just wanted to see how you were doing.”  
  
“Well then! Sit down, let’s begin.”  
  
Everyone dug into the food. Then Win put down her cutlery. “I forgot the drinks.”  
  
“I’ll go and get them.” Endeavour rose from his seat. He came back carrying the whiskey, and went back for some beer. Then he sat down again.  
  
“Thank you,” Win said.  
  
“I have some news,” Jim said, with a blush. Sam whistled. Endeavour kicked him under the table.  
  
“Ouch!” Sam yelped.  
  
Jim flexed his fingers. “I am announcing two things. One, that this young officer-” He nodded to Shirley. “Has signed a contract to work in Oxford again. She will not be returning to London.”  
  
Everyone applauded.  
  
“That’s good news, Ms. Trewlove.” Fred smiled. “Missed your face around here.”  
  
“The other thing, is that, uh-” Jim pulled at his tie. “I’ll be taking the DI’s exam next year.”  
  
“Oh?” said Mr. Thursday. “I wasn’t expecting you to go next time. I can lend you the book I used, but it’s probably hideously out of date.”  
  
“You don’t have to. I can ask one of the current DI’s for his.” Jim smiled.  
  
“What is this?” Endeavour whispered. “I thought you were going to tell them about, you know-” He held up his left hand.  
  
In the awkward moment of silence that followed, everyone else continued to eat and drink. Morse at last dropped his hand.  
  
He did not escape everyone’s notice. “Young man,” Win said to Morse, “are you planning something, perhaps? Something usually in June?” She grinned.  
  
“Ah, yes, I’m going to visit the lakes.” Joan strove to kick him, but she could not reach him.  
  
“Oh. Well, bring a good costume, it could be a little cold. Even in summer.”  
  
“I’ll remember.”  
  
Shirley belched. “Excuse me,” she giggled, and covered her lips. “What I wanted to say is that…”  
  
She held up her left hand, to show the ring. “I’m getting married.”  
  
Those at the table burst into applause. “Who is the lucky gent?” Fred asked.  
  
Shirley’s eyes darted from side to side. Then she nodded at Jim. “This one.”  
  
Shouts of joy rang out. “Congratulations!” Fred yelled, patting Jim on the shoulder. “Couldn’t happen to two better people.”  
  
“Why’d you tell ‘em that, Shirl?” Jim said, looking down and chuckling.  
  
“Didn’t you want them to know? I mean, isn’t that why we came over?”  
  
There was a highly uncomfortable pause.  
  
“I still can’t get over the fact that the Prince of Wales showed up at a regular bowling alley.” Jim attempted a grin. “He must have had, what, four security fellows with him? Right, Morse?”  
  
After a moment’s pause, Endeavour said, “Yes, right.”  
  
“If you can still remember.” Jim smirked.  
  
“Ah, you.” Dev wrinkled his nose.  
  
“Let’s finish our food, please.” Mrs. Thursday dabbed her face with a serviette.  
  
“Does anybody want to hear what happened to me lately?” Sam said.  
  
“Of course! Tell us, son, how’s the Army been treating you?”  
  
“Well, I shot a lot of rockets. Blanks, really. At a testing ground.”  
  
“Oh! Tell us more.” Win sipped her wine.  
  
“But, I saw the Prince of Wales! You know, Charlie?” Jim squeaked.  
  
“His Highness, Prince Charles,” Fred corrected.  
  
“Yes, I saw him. He’s a pretty good bowler, you know. At ten-pins. Don’t really know how he is at cricket.”  
  
“You interrupted my story,” Sam complained. A flurry of remarks went up. The men carried on for some five minutes.  
  
Then Endeavour looked around. “Where’d the girls go?”  
  
“I’m here,” Win said.  
  
“Yes, ma’am, but Ms. Thursday and Ms. Trewlove are not.” He rose from his chair. “I’ll take a look.”  
  
Endeavour walked down the front way. He turned his face from side to side. On the second try, he saw the shapes of the women, off to the left. He stepped closer.  
  
“I don’t know why, but suddenly, I’ve been thinking about all the things I wanted to do as a kid.” Joan clutched her elbows.  
  
“Aren’t you studying art now?” Shirley said.  
  
“Yeah. My Master’s concludes at the end of this term.”  
  
“Have you thought of a speech yet?” Endeavour announced, as he walked up to the two. He smiled.  
  
“I already gave my defense,” Joan said.  
  
“Oh, really?” Morse asked, tilting his head.  
  
“Yes. I passed. They’re just not awarding the degree until the end of the term.”  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me that? Yes!” Endeavour shouted. He grabbed Joan and spun her around.  
  
“Easy, sailor,” Shirley laughed.  
  
Endeavour set Joan down. He faced Trewlove. “Are you and Jim really tying the knot?”  
  
Shirley smiled wanly, and pawed one shoe over the ground. “I don’t know, now. Not if he’s ashamed to talk about us.”  
  
“Give him time. His stomach’s probably in knots.” Endeavour smiled.  
  
Shirley looked down again.  
  
“Let’s go back in,” Joan said. “There are clouds. Might be raining soon.”  
  
“Yes,” Endeavour said, and jogged ahead. He opened the door.  
  
“And so I aimed the turret, and it-” Sam said. He turned around when the three walked in.  
  
Endeavour pointed at Joan. “Congratulate this woman.”  
  
“Certainly, what for?” said Win.  
  
“For completing her Master’s.” His face was all smile.  
  
Joan raised her eyebrows, but nodded. “I passed, with the speech.”  
  
“Darling, why didn’t you tell us?” Win said, getting up to hug her daughter. Fred followed suit.  
  
“I guess I had so many things to talk about,” Joan said.  
  
“Congratulations, sis,” Sam told her. He became the third to hug her.  
  
“I feel like getting a little more tipsy,” Jim said. “Ah, Mr. Thursday?”  
  
“Yes, DS Strange?”  
  
“Would it be all right if I slept in your extra room? Just for tonight?”  
  
“Well.” Fred tilted his head, and gripped his chin. “All right with you, honey?” he said to Win.  
  
“No problem.” Winifred smiled gently.  
  
“All right.” Jim poured himself some white wine and raised it. Then he drank. “Tell me,” he said to Sam, “tell me about the tank. Do they let you drive the tank?”  
  
The two began to converse. Shirley stretched out her feet. She gently tapped Joan on the arm.  
  
“Go on, tell them! Say it!”  
  
“Eh, I don’t know.” Joan slumped in her chair. “Wish I had a fizzy drink.”  
  
“Let’s get you one.” Shirley got up and went to the kitchen.  
  
Trewlove found the soda pop and poured a glass. Joan took it. “Thank you,” Joan said, and sipped a little.  
  
“Now, what’s the trouble?” Shirley asked.  
  
Joan sighed. “I’m a few weeks-” She waved her hands. “Late.”  
  
Shirley drummed her fingers on the table. “Late like you forgot to drop off a library book, or late like-” She waved her hand.  
  
“Yes, the other one.” Joan kept looking down.  
  
Shirley frowned. “Well, check with the doctor. Maybe it’s just nerves.”  
  
“I will.”  
  
“But, you suspect it’s-”  
  
Joan nodded. “Right.”  
  
“Well.” Shirley took a deep breath. “I’d get a scan as soon as you are able.”  
  
“But what if he – doesn’t want to be with me because of that?”  
  
“You could give it up for adoption.”  
  
Joan nodded.  
  
Morse burst into the room. He had a beer bottle in hand. He opened the fridge and rummaged between the plates and boxes. “Ah, biscuits. Aren’t you ladies coming back out?” He walked off without waiting for an answer.  
  
“Best of luck,” Shirley said, and gave Joan a hug. “Do you have my phone number?”  
  
Joan nodded.  
  
“Okay, then.” She smiled, and opened the door to the living room.  
  
The party went on for quite a while. Win turned on the radio. Fred began to sing along with the tunes. After a while, he stopped, and the talk turned to the upcoming nuptials.  
  
“Good man!” Fred said. “When did you decide?”  
  
“When she got back from London. I didn’t want to miss her again.” He squeezed Shirley’s hand.  
  
“A toast!” Fred got everybody glasses of wine.  
  
“Oh, great. I don’t even have a girlfriend,” Sam mumbled.  
  
“You’ll find somebody.” Win smiled.  
  
They drank a round to the couple. And then some more.  
  
By the time they were down to the last bottle, Shirley was glad Jim had asked to stay in the guest room. That gave her an idea. “Mr. Thursday?”  
  
“Yes, Ms. Trewlove?”  
  
“It’s raining so badly now,” she said. “Take a look outside.”  
  
“By Jove, it is. If you don’t have a ride home, you can stay here.”  
  
“Thank you. I will take you up on that.”  
  
“So, what was the Prince really like?” Sam asked Morse.  
  
The talk went rattling on. At last, Winifred shut off the radio, and nodded goodbye to the guests. She went upstairs. Fred followed. Jim took Shirley’s hand and crossed into the guest room. He shut the door.  
  
Joan cleaned the table. Endeavour helped. When all the dishes and glasses were put away, Joan swabbed her hands with a towel. Endeavour stood behind her and set his arms over her shoulders.  
  
Her eyes opened. “What’s this?”  
  
“I just thought I’d… help.” He slid his hands down her side.  
  
He turned her around to kiss her. There was rank fear in her eyes.  
  
“What’s the matter?” he said.  
  
“I’ve been taking this – medicine.”  
  
“Oh?” He frowned.  
  
“Yes. They’re from Canada.”  
  
“Why there? Don’t we have everything in England?”  
  
“Not quite.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Joan put a finger over Morse’s lips, and rushed upstairs. She opened the door to her room. When they had both crossed the threshold, she shut the door.  
  
Before she said a word, Joan rummaged in her night table’s drawer, then in the medicine cabinet. She presented Morse with two items.  
  
Endeavour held a newspaper article up to his face. “Canadian brand of birth control smuggled into U.K.,” he read. His eyes opened wide. “Good God. 'Pills shown to cause pain, in some cases.'” He pulled Joan to him. “Suprex Pharmaceuticals. Is that what you use?”  
  
Joan nodded and sniffled.  
  
“Did you take the pills, but they didn’t work?”  
  
“I think so. Yes.”  
  
“Are you okay? Any bleeding, pain, things like that? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” Morse looked her in the eyes.  
  
“No, but-” She took a deep breath. “I think I might, well, I was supposed to-” She took another breath. “Have my time of the month a couple months ago. And I did not.”  
  
“Ay, ay.” He gently rocked her back and forth. “Have you had a scan yet?”  
  
“No. Monday, I’ll call and set one up.” She cried a little.  
  
“It’s such a shame that they don’t let adults buy that sort of thing in this country. Not even married people. The only thing you can get is condoms.” Morse sighed. “A lot of things need to change.”  
  
“Yep,” Joan said. She couldn’t stop crying. “I’m sorry I’m like this.”  
  
“Who wouldn’t be?” he said. “Shh.” He kissed her forehead. “Can I – stay tonight?”  
  
She nodded. “Yes.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“St. Hildegard said, ‘All manner of things shall be well.’”  
  
“She may have something there.” He kissed her again. “Tell you what. On Monday, I’ll call a solicitor and see about joining a case action against this company. Canada is still in the Commonwealth.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“In the meantime-” He smiled at her.  
  
“Yes,” Joan said, smiling shyly, and looking at the floor.  
  
Morse shut the lights. He undressed. Joan did as well. Endeavour got under the covers. Joan continued to stand there, shyly looking down.  
  
He beckoned to her, and pulled down the corner of the sheet. He smiled.  
  
She stepped to the bed.  
  
That night, in the Thursday household, there were three happy couples. The single man, Sam, was so exhausted from drink that he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.  
  
The night crept on. Joan dropped off to sleep first; Endeavour held her, and went over what he would tell her in the morning. If there was a baby, he was not letting her give it up for adoption. He was going to tell her they could make it work.  
  
In the morning. 

TO BE CONTINUED


End file.
